


The Moon Within Your Heart

by MilesHibernus



Category: Warlock (TV) - Fandom
Genre: 2.06 Falling and Rising, Erasmus's self-worth issues, Pining, mia_ugly's Slow Show Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26246233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilesHibernus/pseuds/MilesHibernus
Summary: What do you do when you've held someone's life in your hands?
Relationships: Erasmus/William (Warlock - Slow Show)
Kudos: 15





	The Moon Within Your Heart

When it was over—when William was _sleeping_ , instead of passed out, comfortably nested in blankets next to the hearth—Erasmus had to leave the house. 

Julia looked up from low-voiced conference with their host, a stocky young man whose name Erasmus couldn’t recall at that moment, and gave him an understanding smile. He couldn’t muster one in return, but she didn’t appear to mind. _Not long_ , he said with his shoulders and a wave of his hand, and Julia nodded. 

Outside the moon was just rising, bright and sharp in the clear cold air. It gave enough light for Erasmus to find his way, even after he closed himself off from the cottage candles with the door. His breath steamed like a dragon’s and he pulled the sleeves of his coat down over his hands. 

Denholm— _that_ was his name, Denholm. Henry. He kept a horse, a steady, plodding animal who would save your feet if not make journeys any faster. Erasmus slipped into its tiny stable and heard its sleepy whicker. It was a bit warmer in the stable from the horse’s heat, and saved from complete darkness only by a paper-paned window. 

The building wasn’t large enough for a hayloft; there was just a pile against the back wall, loosely contained by a rough barrier. Erasmus scooped out a hollow in the hay, working almost entirely by touch, and huddled himself into it. He could still feel it, the priest’s life seeping out around his hands no matter what he tried to stop it. He hadn’t stopped it; if it had been left up to him, William would have died.

His thoughts tripped over the word like a rock in the road. William would have _died_ , if it had been only Erasmus there to help him. Even now they’d be washing him, preparing the winding sheets, placing the coins on his eyes. He would have been dead, because Erasmus wasn’t enough to save him. 

He was no stranger to having his eye caught by someone who he knew wouldn’t look back; Erasmus had never seen any reason to deny himself half of humanity, not to mention the women who looked at him and saw nothing they cared to investigate. So the idea that he would watch William and William would neither notice nor care to didn’t worry him. He was happy to indulge in the occasional quiet company of his own hands while thinking about what William’s might feel like, winding through his hair. 

Or at least, he’d thought he was happy with that. But kneeling over William, watching the stain of blood spread with lethal speed, it had been all he could do to keep the words behind his teeth; not just _keep your eyes open_ but _look at me so I can hold you here_. Not _hang on_ but _don’t leave me._ If this had ever been a feeling that could have been solved with a quick tumble, it wasn’t any longer. Erasmus put his hands over his face, feeling the ghost of the priest’s blood on them.

For the horse’s sake, he tried to cry quietly. 

When the storm passed he decided to wait a bit, so that he wouldn’t look as if he’d been crying when he went back in. Julia wouldn’t judge him, but he didn’t much want to have to explain himself to Denholm. While he was waiting he fell asleep, the exhaustion of the day sneaking up on him like a thief with a cosh.

Soft light and a hand on his arm woke him. Erasmus opened his eyes to find Julia crouched next to his burrow, holding a rushlight carefully over bare dirt instead of hay. He blinked at her, at a loss for words and unused to the experience, but Julia only said, “He’s awake. He wants to see you.” Erasmus nodded and began the laborious process of unwinding himself from the hay-pile.

“How is he?”

Julia sighed. “About like you’d expect.”

“I’d expect _dead_ ,” said Erasmus. It sounded waspish even to him.

“Better than you’d expect, then,” Julia replied, rather than rising to the bait, which told him something about how _she_ felt.

“When we get back inside you’re getting some sleep,” said Erasmus. He clambered to his feet at last, ignoring the complaints of his various joints.

“Yes, Dad,” said Julia, but there was none of the teasing edge she’d normally use, only a riposte made because it was expected of her.

“I mean it,” said Erasmus. “You saved his life, Julia, you deserve some rest.” They started for the door. It took Erasmus a few steps to get into the rhythm of walking; falling asleep curled into a ball in a hayrick had not been the cleverest thing he’d done this week.

“There wouldn’t have been anything to save if you hadn’t held him together as long as you did,” said Julia, as they emerged into the moonlight again. It hadn’t quite reached zenith; he’d been asleep for only a few hours.

Erasmus grimaced. “I didn’t do anything useful.” _Am I bleeding?_ William’s voice murmured in his memory. He pushed the thought away.

Julia drew breath as if to speak, hesitated, and let it out again wordlessly. The frost crackled under their feet.

Inside the heat felt luxurious and Erasmus realised how chilled he’d gotten. Julia handed him the rushlight, unclasped her cloak, and said, “I’m in the loft with Joshua, there’re blankets for you near the hearth. You’re on William duty for the rest of the night.”

Erasmus had a vague feeling that he ought to object to having been assigned a job, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually do it. He nodded, gave her the rushlight back, and went over to the pile of blankets that contained William as she turned for the stairs.

The priest’s eyes were closed, but to Erasmus’s mild surprise they opened as he knelt. “You look terrible,” he said, trying on a smirk.

“I think I’m permitted to,” said William loftily. “I nearly died.”

Erasmus swallowed and the phrase jangled in his head like morning bells when you were trying to have a lie-in, _nearly died nearly died nearly died._ He couldn’t make his mouth form words. After a moment William’s expression softened and he went on earnestly, “Julia told me that you saved me.”

“ _She_ saved you,” said Erasmus, too fast.

There was an odd little pause before William replied, “She said she wouldn’t have been able to if it hadn’t been for you. So I think you both did.”

“Priest,” Erasmus began, with no idea where he intended to end up, so it was just as well that William extracted a hand from his nest and rested it on Erasmus’s forearm.

“If I had died,” said William, and it took every ounce of control Erasmus had to _not shudder_ , “at least the last thing I saw would have been the face of a friend. The last thing I heard would have been my friend’s voice. So thank you for that at least, if you won’t let me thank you for the other.”

“All part of the service,” said Erasmus. He intended to sound flippant; he could tell it didn’t come out that way. In any case they both knew how long it had been since his help had been contingent on being paid.

“Oh, of course, you mercenary,” said William nonetheless, and Erasmus could have kissed him, in the imaginary world where that was something he'd ever want. “Now I’m afraid I need more rest, but I wanted to—to say that. Before.”

“If you need anything, I’ll be right here.” Erasmus waved at his own (considerably smaller) pile of blankets.

“I know,” said William softly. Their eyes caught and held. In the low firelight William’s looked like clear water, hardly any colour at all. Erasmus stared, couldn’t stop staring until finally William’s eyelids drooped; that broke the spell and Erasmus coughed and turned sharply away.

Julia had made the blankets into a passable pallet; it wouldn’t be the best bed he’d ever had but it wasn’t near the worst, either. Erasmus sat on it and took his boots off, a process complicated by the subtle tremor of his hands. Finally he lay down and debated whether to risk waking William again by saying goodnight. He’d settled on _no_ when the priest said, “Sleep well, Erasmus.”

“You too, priest,” he said, and thought that perhaps he would.


End file.
